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Robert E Hunt Jr
Number of posts: 6
Email address: email
By Robert E Hunt Jr:
ump missed the call
Once upon a time, schoolwork, religion and baseball collided in an emotional moral quandary with a messy but happy compromise ending. The year was 1973 and I was 15 years old.
I am both blessed and cursed with a freakish memory. I still don’t quite understand it and I swear I didn’t do anything to get it. It’s just there. It was a blessing in high school because it helped make schoolwork easier …
I was nine years old in the spring of 1967 when my father asked me if I wanted to tryout for Little League. I had no idea what Little League was but when he explained it was baseball, I quickly agreed. He had taken me to my first ballgame when I was six so any combination of my dad and baseball meant an instant yes. Back home a few hours later, he told me someone called to say I’d been picked to play for the Beachwood-Pine Beach (NJ) Little League Cardinals.
Fear. Of all the four-letter words in the English language, “fear” might be the worst. It’s certainly the most terrifying. Everyone knows fear and no one escapes it. There’s a special kind of fear that youngsters confront though. Fear of yourself. Fear of discovering who you might be and what you might be able to do. It’s the great unknown that young kids face every day. Some conquer that fear spectacularly. Some find different ways of coping with it. And some get crushed by it.
no ice, no skates, no puck
“I’m open,” I realized as I sped down the cold gray parking lot surface. “But does he see it?”
Growing up a boy on the Jersey Shore in the early 1970’s, baseball was our summer passion. We’d play all day long on a sandlot and then go home and put our uniforms on for that night’s Little League game. In the fall, it was football, of course. No helmets, no pads, barely any rules. However, in the winter, we played street hockey.
slow death roll shot
“Go find Lester.”
We were typical college kids in the late 70’s. Brief moments of intense studying, staying up way too late, eating the wrong foods, smoking and drinking too much, partying like there was no tomorrow, falling in and out of lust disguised as love, rooting for our school and wasting time. Wasting lots of time.
whatever it takes
There are many ways that young kids grow with their college experience. If you go away to school, when you’re a freshman, you can’t wait to get back home. Fall break, Thanksgiving, Christmas, spring break, summer vacation … They all mean the same thing. Home. If you don’t have a car, you try to arrange a ride or you check the bus and train schedules. Whatever it takes …